


Nothing Else Matters

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Only Two [2]
Category: Dark City (1998)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Friendship, M/M, Spoilers, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel knows that John Murdoch should really be with his wife, even if she isn't the same person anymore. But it doesn't stop him from falling in love anyway. (post movie)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own, lay claim to or make money from Dark City or its characters. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.

Sometimes John Murdoch wondered what the hell had exactly been in that syringe. He'd carried it in his breast pocket, listening to but not believing that it held the answers he was looking for, but at the same time not willing to throw it away, not willing to chance that it might be important. There was something in the young doctor's eyes, some pleading desperation, so while he wouldn't take him at his word, he didn't entirely reject him. Besides, he was the best link they had to the Strangers - someone human, weak. Something in this mess of endless night that John could control.

He'd almost forgotten about the syringe, focused on other things - Shell Beach, then Emma, trapped in their clutches. Forgot about it until the doctor stood over him, strapping him to that wheel, until the doctor discreetly pulled it from his coat. His voice was low and laboured with whatever it was that stole his breath, and throaty with emotion, with rebellion and... excitement? And then he felt pain, searing, stabbing into his forehead and bursting red-hot through his skull. Pain and oblivion.

Pain and then... memories. Years and years of memories flooding into his mostly empty mind, the product of the syringe and its strange chemicals. Years and years of the man with the honey coloured hair - Daniel, thought John, though his mind had not completely associated that name with Doctor Schreber until that moment. Years of being taught, guided, trained, until his mind could act and react in an instant, harness the strange power he had developed. And Daniel beside him each step of the way.

It was almost too much to take in at once, so he shut his mind down, turned his emotions off, concentrated simply on the knowledge and experience he had been given. He had to, to survive. To beat them.

He didn't start to feel again until after everything was over, until the strangers were dead and the city in ruins. Until the Doctor limped toward him, battered and dirty and scarred. So unlike the Daniel in his memories, but the eyes that watched him behind the wire rimmed spectacles were the same, the same beautiful, intense blue. And as he realized this, years and years of memories all piled together in a rush, in something that felt a little like a mental blow to the head, almost leaving his ears ringing. He managed to mask it, though his body was fairly tingling with sensory overload, with trying to process years of images and emotions all at once, and suddenly it was no longer Doctor Schreber in front of him but Daniel. The beginning and end of his world, his saviour, and something in him screamed desire, something that he instantly clamped away, because things couldn't ever be like -that-, even if he wanted Daniel more than anything his messed up, synthesized memories contained, wanted to possess him and heal every scar, kiss away all the pain. Things couldn't be like that, even though he realized that he was alone in the city, alone among the thousands of people who knew nothing of Strangers or Tuning or Experiments. Alone apart from Daniel. Daniel who he needed with an aching desire that he didn't even understand, but couldn't have, because how could something like that be shared or returned or even expressed? And how could he set aside the intense feeling of regret, of self hatred and disgust, for hurting Daniel like he had?

He didn't notice the pain in those blue eyes when he turned away from Daniel with outward calmness to work on the city. Pushing him away. Leaving him for things that were easier to think about, things that didn't make him feel so much. For Shell Beach.

~~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

On a day when he should have been so happy, Daniel Schreber didn't quite understand why he felt so much pain. The Strangers were dead, or slowly dying. He'd watched their leader, their fulcrum, destroyed by Murdoch, watched the alien being inside the human shell try to escape, and die. There would be no more experiments, no more nights of endless darkness, no more punishments. He was free.

All he could think about, however, as he watched John Murdoch walk away, was that he was alone.

It was a sobering thought, and he made his way slowly back toward his apartment. Of course he should be alone now. Murdoch had no reason to trust him, or even like him, really. Schreber had been the Stranger's plaything. How could Murdoch know he was anything less than a willing participant in the years of atrocities that were visited on the people of the city?

But there had been something in John's eyes, a strange expression, emotion, as the two of them stood amidst the ruins of the newly liberated city. For a moment, it had looked like John had wanted to ask him to come with him, and it had reminded Schreber of how handsome the dark haired man was, reawakened old desires that had been banked down for years, from a time he couldn't remember, when he'd been nothing more than a man like everyone else. He felt like he would have done anything for John in that moment, anything that he'd asked, anything at all.

But the moment had passed, and John had turned away, asking nothing, and left.

He was just passing the movie theater when he saw Emma - Anna, now - hurrying to catch the bus to Shell Beach. He shouldn't be surprised by it, he'd made her memories that way, after all. The Prince should have his Princess.

He gave a soft, sad smile and turned away, continuing home and wondering how on earth his heart could be broken by someone he didn't even know.

~~~~~

Weeks passed, and nothing changed for Schreber. The days became normal, regular periods of daylight and night. And he was free of the Strangers, free of their experiments. But still he felt numb, detached, and went through the motions of each day almost mechanically, feeling nothing. Alone.

At the back of the tiny bar by his apartment, no one really cared about the crippled man in the chocolate brown fedora, which was just how Schreber wanted it. It was too jarring, seeing the faces of people he'd given dozens of lifetimes worth of memories to. People whose life story and character he knew in an instant, before they even opened their mouths. He'd thought that perhaps alcohol would help, help him forget enough to talk to someone, anyone, like a normal human being. But instead the bourbon seemed to make things worse, separate him even more from reality than he already was.

When the chair beside him was pulled away, it took him a long moment to look up, away from the empty glasses and into green eyes that watched him with concern. The last person he expected to see in such a place. "Oh....."

"Danie - I'm sorry - Dr. Schreber..." John Murdoch stopped, as if he wasn't quite sure what to say, but it didn't matter to Schreber. John was different, the only one in the city who'd grown past the experiments. He could inject John with a thousand memories, imprint him with a thousand different personas, and he was sure that the man would still be the same, brave and regal.

"Daniel is fine," he found himself replying, voice a little rougher than expected. Raw from the alcohol that burned his throat, that lifted the dampers on his emotions. He found himself suddenly needing, craving the familiarity that he couldn't foster with anyone else in this city, but perhaps could foster with John. "Please."

Dark eyebrows over green eyes knit together slightly as the man sat down beside him. So unusual to find such light coloured eyes with chestnut hair. Striking. "Are you all right, Daniel? I didn't expect to find you... here."

He stared back for several minutes. Green with little flecks of brown right in the middle, something which was surprisingly enthralling. Maybe he could count the brown in his eyes if the world wasn't quite so unstable. "... yes," he said finally. "It's just a bit... difficult sometimes, still being the observer but... having nothing to observe." What was he saying? It didn't make sense, even to his own ears. "I'm sorry, I mean to say -- it's been hard to adjust, to the way things are now. Nothing is real -- anymore. Nothing was ever real."

The man beside him shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Daniel sighed, leaning back in his chair, sipping the remains of his most recent drink. He gave a little nod toward a man who sat at the bar, drinking to forget, much like he was. "Observe that man. Jacob Barrowman. Labourer at the riverfront. Wanted to be a cop, but he got into trouble when he was younger and -- got a bad record. His father beat him and his mother -- deserted them when he was 8, to go live with another woman. But before that he was Richard Grace, city bus driver. Wife and two kids, happily married. Played poker on Wednesday nights -- with the boys. I could tell you the same and more for every -- person in the bar, even the whole -- city." He turned back to John, feeling his eyes narrow. "It is all a lie. All of it. Everyone in this city -- around us. Every. Damn. Person." He raised a hand to attract the waitress as she neared their table. "Another, please. And one for Mr. Murdoch."

John was silent for a long moment, watching the man the doctor had referred to. "Call me John," he said slowly, glancing back at him. "If I am John, to you. Does it matter what they remember, as long as it's real to them?"

Daniel gave a soft, bitter laugh, taking the drink from the waitress as she arrived, passing the other to John. "No. Not to them, it doesn't. They will never know -- the difference. Not like you and I. Sometimes I hate everyone-- for it. But truly, it is just... envy." He was saying too much, the words were too easy to speak. Too difficult to close down the floodgates he'd opened. "Even with the Strangers gone, I am still a prisoner -- of Their experiments. You should not have saved me." He took another long swallow, felt it burn refreshingly hot going down his throat, and coughed.

"Daniel..." such surprise and sorrow in those green eyes, and they were more piercing than Daniel wanted to admit, cutting through the haze of the bourbon and tightening around his heart. "You really feel like you have nothing?"

He forced himself to look away, down to the liquid and ice in his glass, swirling it around slowly, hearing a bitter laugh leave his twisted lips. "The closest thing I have to a past, is what I have given -- to you."

A sigh, and John gulped back most of his drink in one go. "Then I suppose I'm no different than the rest."

"That is entirely -- not true, John."

"How is it not?" A challenge in his eyes. "Tell me how. Tell me who I am like you did for that guy. It's the same."

Daniel looked down at the table quickly, before his emotions could betray him, before he let it all spill out without restraint. "You are... different, John. You are you, regardless of -- what you remember. You broke free."

"Only because of you."

"Perhaps not. Well." He closed his eyes with a little sigh. "Please do not -- trouble yourself with me. This is my cross to bear. My punishment. Or shall we say... karma? The end result of my -- actions."

"Misery?" John murmured softly. "To be alone? No one deserves that, Daniel. Least of all you."

The kindness of his words was almost too much for him. He felt his body shudder, and retreated to the safety of the bourbon, draining the glass. Trying to react any way other than how he felt. Looking up at him, lashing out, finding it even harder to breathe than normal, in the face of this emotion. "No? Then tell me how to change things, Mr. Murdoch. I do not think that your -- abilities -- can solve this."

John looked a little hurt, and was silent for a long moment, finishing his drink as well. "Daniel..."

"You can't help me, can you?" He turned his face away bitterly from those green eyes.

"Come back to Shell Beach with me."

For a moment, Daniel's heart stopped beating, and he felt the tips of his ears heat. Then he told himself firmly that no, John most definitely was not asking for -that-, nothing that wasn't completely platonic, and he took a few breaths to calm himself, as deep as he can, wincing as his lungs and diaphragm complained. "I do not think that you want me -- as a house guest."

"I very much know that I do," John replied evenly. "Come back with me, just for a few days if you want. Just to get away from the city." John's eyes searched his as he looked back. "... please?"

He almost couldn't comprehend it, the kindness, the care. "Why?"

Green eyes darted away from his again, lips tightening just a little. "You're not the only one alone in this lie."

"Anna - "

"Anna isn't you. And she's not the woman I loved - thought I loved - anymore." He looked strangely embarrassed, and Daniel stared at him fuzzily, still not understanding. He almost questioned it out loud, but caught himself at the last moment.

"I am not sure that I will be -- good company, John," he said finally, trying to be as frank as he could be, and John smiled, patting his hand lightly where it sat on the table. His skin was warm. Real.

"Let me be the judge of that, okay?"

He hesitated, then nodded. Despite his better judgement, he couldn't say no when John was looking at him like that. "All right."

John smiled warmly, something almost blindingly beautiful in its joy. "Let's go, then," He stood, and there was a flicker of - something- in his eyes that Daniel knew meant Tuning, and the dark haired man tossed several bills from seemingly no-where on the table to cover the tab.

"Now?" He tried to stand as well, stumbling a little and grabbing the back of John's chair for support. "Thank you - ah - I'm sorry, I -- am rather inebriated..."

He felt an arm slip around his waist, tight and strong, holding him up and supporting him. His back ached faintly from it, but the warm vibrations of the alcohol, along with the soft pleasant shock of having John's arm around his waist, dulled the usual pain enough to make it bearable. He heard John chuckle very softly under his breath. "You're even eloquent when you're drunk."

"Thank you," he managed faintly, not knowing how else to reply, letting John guide him to the exit, support him. "John, I - I must go home, I have no clothes...."

"I'll take care of anything you need," came the calm reply, and Daniel found himself taken outside and bundled into a taxi cab. He let himself lean against the warm body next to him, suddenly feeling very weary and out of touch with reality. Weary enough to let his head rest on John's shoulder, enough not to care that it pushed his hat askew. He felt John lift the fedora off his head, fingers stroking lightly over his hair, felt his own body shudder under the gentleness of his touch, under something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. Perhaps ever. He couldn't remember anything past Their reign, past the ruined remains of his memories, past years of working for Them in darkness.

"I'm sorry," he tried to say, only to have John shush him softly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Daniel. Nothing at all. I should be the one apologizing." A soft sigh, and Daniel tried to reply, tried to question it, but found that his mouth didn't want to respond, that his body didn't want to do anything but disappear into the warmth and strength of John's shoulder, into the thrumming vibrations of the alcohol in his system.

He was vaguely aware of the cab stopping, eventually, of John paying and then carefully lifting his head from his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Come on, doctor. Help me get you out of the cab and then I can do the rest."

He summoned enough coordination to let John help him out of the car, feeling his hat placed back on his head. "I'm sorry," he tried again faintly, feeling John's hands steady him, help him to stand, and then as the cab drove off, strong arms wrapped around him entirely, holding him achingly close.

"Shhh," John murmured, breath warm on his ear. "Hold on tight, it'll only take a moment to get inside."

He did so, not being able to think about anything but how good it felt to be held so securely, and how much he'd shamefully wanted such contact from John for so very long. He gave a soft, shuddering sob before he could help himself, and felt the arms tighten around him, felt his feet settle on solid ground, though he'd hardly been aware that they were not previously.

"I'm sorry," John was murmuring, voice soft and warm, and he felt his hat pulled away again, felt strong fingers stroke gently over his hair, urging his face to nestle against the warmth of that shoulder, one arm still tight around his waist. "I've been a coward. I never meant to hurt you, but I was afraid...."

He couldn't find the coherency to process his words, or to answer them, beyond a vague confusion. How could John ever be afraid of anything? And he knew that John was just trying to comfort him, but he couldn't stop trembling, couldn't stop the tears, all his defenses torn down by this simple kindness, by this badly craved affection, even though he knew it meant nothing of what he wanted it to mean.

"I'm sorry," he managed. "I'm - I'm so tired...."

"Of course...." He felt John pull away. Daniel tried to dry his eyes with the back of his sleeve, clumsily pushing the wire rimmed glasses up, and felt them taken from him gently. "You can sleep here. Your glasses are on the table beside the bed." Warm hands taking his coat, his suit jacket, gently unbuttoning the vest underneath before he managed to push them away as they started at his shirt.

"No - please...." His fingers clutched the fabric, unable to bare the thought of being more exposed in front of this man, and John gave another little soothing noise.

"Of course, just want you to be comfortable." The voice was rich and soothing, like cream, but did he detect a hint of nervousness? It was so hard to tell, with this blur over his senses, over his mind. He let John guide him into bed, take his shoes off and tuck a thick, warm quilt around him. "There's a glass of water next to your glasses," his voice said softly. "If you can manage to, you should drink it."

Daniel gave a soft, weary noise of agreement, wanting nothing more than for the night to be over so that he could put himself back together.

Gentle hands smoothed over his hair again, and after a short pause, he felt the softest touch of John's lips to his forehead. It almost completely broke him, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip, barely able to hold back until John left the room. Then he gave in and sobbed silently into the pillow until sleep finally claimed him.

~~~~~


	3. Chapter 3

When Daniel awoke, it took him a few moments to remember where he was and what had happened. He remembered the bar and the embarrassingly large amount of bourbon all too easily, but everything else was a bit fuzzy. He wasn't quite sure how he'd agreed to come to John's home in Shell Beach, but he remembered with all too much clarity how good it had felt to be pulled close to the other man, how defenseless he'd been against his own emotions.

He closed his eyes again with a soft groan, rubbing them blindly with the back of a wrist, the pleasant oblivion of the alcohol having turned to a pounding headache. The thought of facing John left him feeling vulnerable and a little terrified, especially not being able to clearly recall if he had said or done anything inappropriate in his inebriated state. He fought to push the fears down for politeness's sake. John had been very kind to him, though he still wasn't entirely sure how he came to run into the dark haired man in that little bar in the first place....

He sat up and looked blearily around the neatly kept bedroom, which, he saw once he'd put his glasses back on, was clean and bright and simple, a little refreshing. His coat, jacket and vest hung from a hanger on the back of the door, along with a white bathrobe. He'd just finished the glass of water when a light knock came at the door, a soft call. "Daniel?"

"I'm up," he replied with a sigh, looking up as the door cracked open.

"Hey." John gave a soft smile, already dressed. "How are you feeling?"

He managed to return the smile. "Like I've had -- too much to drink," he replied frankly.

John gave a soft chuckle, entering the room and perching beside him on the bed. "Hold still, I think I can help a little with that." Warm hands cupped either side of his head, and John closed his eyes, voice a little distracted. "Don't worry... this is one of the first things... I taught myself." He felt tingling warmth spread from those hands, through his skull and down his spine, soft and comforting, and he watched John with wide eyes as he pulled his hands away.

"How to -- heal a hangover?"

A little grin. "It comes in handy. Hey - if you want to shower or anything, the bathroom's down the hall. I'll leave some clothes here for you."

"Thank you," Daniel replied gratefully, "For both. And for letting me -- stay."

A little wistful smile. "It's good to have company. I'll be downstairs."

"John..." he tried again, and stopped, watching the other man as he turned back into the room, raising an eyebrow in response to his call. Daniel wet his lips. "If I - if I said or did anything -- inappropriate...."

John smiled again and shook his head. "Don't worry, doc. You were the very picture of propriety. See you in a bit."

"Thank you..." He watched John leave, still a little uncertain about it, but decided to take him at his word.

Between whatever John had done and a hot shower, he felt much more human. When he returned to the room there was a buff colored suit hanging from the door. Although it wasn't his usual colour, he found himself quite liking how well tailored it was. Once he was dressed, it seemed rather more appropriate for Shell Beach than his regular wardrobe, for the mid morning sun that streamed through the sheer white curtains. It was beautiful, John's house, in a simple, comfortable way. Perhaps it wasn't so much how it looked as how it felt - warm and inviting and full of sunlight. But what was he doing here? He tried again to think back to the night before. He remembered tears, and John's hand stroking his hair, and the dark haired man talking... about what? He couldn't remember, and it frustrated him. He felt like he was missing something important, some idea or realization that hung just out of reach.

John was already seated at the table when he found his way into the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. The table was laid out with an impressive spread of fresh fruit and various pastries. He looked over it all before sitting at the other place setting, raising an eyebrow at John. "Are you expecting -- an army?"

The dark haired man laughed, warm and at ease. "No, no... I suppose I did overdo it a little. Just didn't know what you'd want. Don't worry, just eat what you like. It won't go to waste."

He smiled. "Thank you. If it's not too much of a worry, might I trouble you for -- some tea? Orange Pekoe?"

"Oh!" John looked a little surprised, and moved aside a few of the dishes to make room for the tea service that was Tuned into being, delicate blue and white china. "I'm sorry, somehow I assumed you'd have coffee...."

He smiled, more touched than he wanted to let on by John's fussing. "No, no, this is all very -- kind of you. Thank you." They sat in silence for a few moments, eating, and Daniel reflected that being with John was strangely comfortable, much more so than he'd expected, even if only in silence.

He sat back in his chair finally, sipping his cup of tea. "Thank you for taking care of me -- last night," he said softly. "You shouldn't have had to -- deal with that kind of immaturity. I'm very sorry for -- my behavior...."

John sat back as well, watching him with a little wistful smile. "There's nothing wrong with a little indulgence. You have nothing to be sorry for, Daniel. Really."

The words were familiar, and he watched John for a long moment, letting the memories of last night slowly start to come back to him. "You're not a coward, John."

Dark eyebrows raised slightly. "What makes you say that?"

"Last night -- you said...."

"Ah." John glanced away, looking a little embarrassed, and took a sip of his coffee. "Debatable. But thank you all the same."

Daniel watched him, still trying to piece things together. "But you asked for forgiveness.... for what?"

John's gaze still evaded his, hands wrapped around the coffee mug. "For... for hurting you."

"You haven't..."

"No?" Green eyes snapped to his, troubled. "I treated you very badly, in the beginning, when all you offered me was help."

"You had no reason to -- trust me, John...."

"Regardless, it's inexcusable." His lips tightened into a thin line, and he shook his head slightly. "It was vile of me. It was no better than what They did to you."

"Not for a moment." Daniel felt his eyes narrow. "Don't ever class yourself with -- Them. You are more brave and -- noble than anyone I have ever -- had the fortune to meet. Circumstances were unfortunate then, we all did what -- we had to."

"There was no reason for me to have to - "

He shook his head, holding a hand up to cut him off, speaking gently. "I forgave you for it a long ago, John. Please don't continue to -- let it have power over you."

John looked back to him, looking almost astonished, and more than a little touched. "... thank you. It's... it's very sweet of you, to say that."

He lowered his eyes, feeling the tips of his ears heat self-consciously. "There is no need to -- thank me. You have given me freedom. I can never -- repay you for that."

"You saved my life. Or at least from whatever horrible end they had planned for me. You've never owed me anything, Daniel."

He looked so eager, so sincere, and Daniel found he didn't dare hold his gaze, for fear of bringing back the overwhelming emotions of the night before, for fear of losing control again. But John was still speaking, still nursing the cup of coffee.

"It was very selfish of me," he said, softly, "to disappear out here after everything had happened, and just desert you in the city. I was only thinking of myself and my own pain. I'm sorry about that, too."

Daniel managed to shake his head. "You were looking for your wife. I'm very sorry, by the way, that it didn't -- work out. I did try to make her imprint - her new memories, that is - so that she would -- love you...."

A flash of surprise from John. "Really? That's how she thought she knew me, it was your doing?"

He felt the heat in his ears intensify, moving down slowly to his cheeks. "I had hoped you would -- be happy. I am sorry that it failed."

"No...." John was still watching him, a little incredulous. "It didn't, she did - love me, or at least like me, I guess. But... I don't love her." He glanced away. "I'm not even sure I really felt love for Emma, to tell you the truth. She's not who's important to me anymore."

Daniel tried to talk, to ask him who it was, but the words stuck in his throat, afraid of the consequences of such an answer. "I... see," he managed finally, swallowing.

John caught his gaze, green eyes to blue. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. I wasn't sure you'd want to see me after everything I did, after I deserted you.... It's just... it's hard being here on my own, you know? Knowing I can change all this at a whim, that nothing's real. You can't explain that to people. I couldn't tell Anna." His gaze was hopeful, as if begging him to understand what was left unsaid, and Daniel wet his lips lightly after watching for a moment.

"I know," he said softly, then spoke again, hesitantly. "I think, perhaps... that I need your company -- as much as you need -- mine."

John left out a relieved sigh, nodding. "Yes, exactly. I do, Daniel, very much, as strange as that may sound."

He gave a soft, tentative smile, trying to push aside the tension, the desire that made his heart beat fast. "Thank you for -- having me here, John."

His friend returned the smile, setting down his empty coffee cup. "You will always be welcome here."

~~~~~

 

Daniel wasn't particularly sure why he'd suggested that John rekindle his relationship with Anna. It certainly wasn't what he wanted, though he knew very well that what he did want simply wasn't possible. Perhaps it was the remnants of some sense of chivalry. After all, John deserved to be happy. Who was he to begrudge him anything that made him that way?

The first time he'd mentioned it, when he'd been a guest at his house in Shell Beach for almost a week, John had looked a little sad, a little wistful. "I suppose," he'd replied finally, noncommittally, and changed the subject back to something else. It was definitely easier to talk about something else, and delightfully Daniel had found that he and John could converse easily about a seemingly unending number of topics, from the workings and upkeep of the city - which Daniel had begun to help him puzzle out and organize - to music and literature, something which seemed to fascinate John. They'd returned to the city a few times, to visit Daniel's office, to scour the city for the books left over from the strangers, for hidden jewels speaking about the history of where they'd come from, a place the books called "earth".

Daniel couldn't recall a time when he'd felt such joy. Even though he still needed to watch himself very carefully around John, keep himself from getting into situations or conversations where his tight control on his own emotions would slip, he craved what they did have, craved the easy company and the sense of not being alone. Even if they did nothing but relax on his porch, each with a book, or John reading aloud, it was such a bright contrast to everything he'd known before, the dark and cold and loneliness.

They were in town one day, simply walking, when he finally met Anna. He heard her voice first, sweet and light, calling for John, and then their was a rush of hair and dress and her arms were thrown around John's neck as he was pulled into a tight hug, her pink lips pressed warmly to his.

His dark haired friend smiled, though it seemed somehow strained. "Hey Anna."

She was all smiles. "How have you been? I was afraid I wouldn't see you again, I haven't seen you in over a week."

"I - I had some business to take care of, I'm sorry. Anna - I'd like you to meet Daniel Schreber, a very dear friend of mine."

He smiled, graciously, and offered a hand, which she shook. "I've heard so much -- about you, Anna."

Her smile was a little confused. "I wish I could say the same. How long have you and John known each other?"

"Since I was very young, actually," John answered for him with a little smile. "We went to school together. Daniel's been working in the city for these past few years, but I managed to lure him out here for a well-deserved vacation."

Somehow they ended up having dinner together at his own suggestion. Anna was sweet, flirty, and talkative. Everything that John should have. But he found himself slowly shutting down throughout the night, talking less and watching more, trying to keep himself from feeling envious of the girl. She was so sweet, so perfect for John. After all, he'd made her that way.

He realized, too late now, that it had been a very bad idea to come here to Shell Beach, to have spent so much time with John. Regardless of how platonic that time had been, he'd gotten to used to the idea of the two of them together, to the point where seeing John with someone else made him feel very and envious and dark and ugly inside. He paid, when they finished dinner, and excused himself with a little smile. "John, please feel free to see Anna home. I'm afraid my leg is bothering me -- too much for the walk, I will take a taxi back -- to your house."

John didn't hide his disappointment, but nodded. "Of course. I'll see you there."

The house was cold without John, regardless of the golden light of the setting sun. Being alone, he found, was worse than being with them, and he couldn't push aside the ache in his heart, couldn't stop his mind from thinking of what they could be doing, talking about. Couldn't stop seeing Anna kissing John. It was a dangerous path to walk down, and he didn't know how to stop himself. Finally, he came to the inevitable conclusion of how to resolve his thoughts and feelings, and quietly packed the few things he had into the small suitcase he'd brought back, leaving the light coloured summer suits John had Tuned for him hanging in the closet.

He didn't notice John's presence until he was almost finished, until he turned to find him standing in the door, and started. "John!"

The dark haired man looked confused, and more than a little hurt. "You're leaving?"

He tried to avoid his gaze, keeping it on the suitcase as he closed it. "I have taken advantage of your -- hospitality for too long, I'm afraid."

John shook his head. "No. I like having you here, it's no trouble at all..."

"Thank you." He wet his lips. "Still. I have -- neglected my office. I must go. I'm sorry."

John took a few steps into the room to stand by his side. "This is about Anna, isn't it."

"Of course not."

"Then what is it?" There was more hurt in his expression, and a little anger. "Tell me, please."

"I need to leave," he replied softly, heart aching, pushing past John and heading out into the hallway.

The wall beside him shifted into another doorway without warning, and John insinuated himself in front of him in the hall, both hands braced on the walls to keep him from leaving. So close to him, so close that Daniel could feel the heat of his skin, smell his cologne, and he turned his face away with a little shiver, trying to push away his emotions, stay strong in his resolve. "Please, John...."

"Don't go," John said softly, anguish apparent in his voice. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry...."

"You didn't do anything -- wrong," he replied, not moving, not turning, heart pounding at their closeness, at the warmth and scent of him. It was too much, too much to handle, to keep resisting, and he knew without a doubt he had to leave, before his weakening barriers crumbled all together, before he said things he would certainly regret, that would end their gentle friendship. It was too tempting, to hard to resist the urge to speak, to tell him everything that he shouldn't, with John standing so close to him. "Please, I... I need to leave."

John sighed, a long, shuddering breath. "I need you," he whispered, and it almost broke Daniel.

"You need your wife," he managed. "A nice, normal life. As do I."

"She's not - she's never been my wife. I don't want Anna," came the desperate reply, and Daniel's eyes flicked to his, shielding himself against need and desire, against the anguish he saw in his green eyes.

"You should want Anna," he replied softly, then reached to gently remove John's hand from the wall, pushing past him and leaving the house. He half expected John to follow him, to continue the argument, but there was no movement from the house.

With a heavy heart, he hailed a cab and started back for the city.

~~~~~


	4. Chapter 4

It rained for days after Daniel left Shell Beach - not a hard rain, but a constant drizzle that started on his way back into the city, enough to make everything cold and wet and damp. It rather fit his mood, Daniel reflected bitterly, somewhere in his well of self hatred. He hated himself for leaving, especially on such bad terms, but he knew it was the inevitable conclusion to their friendship, and the only conclusion that wouldn't end in straight out hatred and rejection, which he knew was what would happen if John ever found out how he really felt, his overwhelming, unnatural desire and need for the other man.

He tried to distract himself, holing up in his apartment, reading through his library, but everything reminded him of John, made him ache more. And he couldn't help but think about Anna as well, the way that she'd kissed him, the way they'd look if they made love. Finally, he left the apartment late one evening, needing a much stronger kind of distraction despite his previous resolutions not to go down that path again.

The bar was only a block from his apartment, not far enough that he needed an umbrella, the brim of his hat keeping the light rain out of his eyes and off his glasses. As he slipped inside, he stopped dead, staring at the familiar profile at the table at the back of the room - the same table, he realized, that he so often chose. He caught the arm of a waitress as she slipped by. "Excuse me... how long has that man -- been here?"

She followed his gaze. "Oh, him. Since about seven, same as every night for the past couple days. You know him?"

"He is -- a friend."

She looked a little sympathetic. "You should have some words with him, then. We've had carry him into a cab at the end of the night every time he's been here. He needs an intervention."

Daniel nodded slowly, shocked and a little saddened by her words, and thanked her, making his way slowly across the room, letting his hands rest on the chair beside him. "John."

Green eyes looked up at him blearily. "Daniel."

He returned the gaze for a long moment, conflicted. He wasn't ready, not at all, to speak with John again, to face the inevitable conversation about his departure. What the waitress had said chilled him, though, and he couldn't bring himself to leave John to face such a state on his own. "May I join you?"

"Thought you'd never ask," the dark haired man replied, draining the last of his drink. Bourbon, Daniel recognized from the smell as he sat down, his usual choice. "Can I buy you a drink?"

He hesitated, then nodded. He'd need it, to get through this. "Thank you."

John waved down the waitress, who brought two more drinks without much delay. Daniel sipped at it, trying to concentrate on the rich burn and not on his pounding heart, not on the effect that being so close to John had on him.

"Was beginning to think you wouldn't ever come," John said softly, after a sip, words a little less articulate than normal.

Daniel glanced over at him in surprise. "You have been drinking here... waiting for me?"

"Worked the first time, didn't it?" John blinked a couple of times, as if to clear his vision. "Don't know where you live."

He flushed despite himself, lowering his head a little. "You should be home," he said, gently. "Where is Anna?"

"Don't wanna be at home or with Anna," John replied, glaring down at his drink fiercely. "Told you that. You don't believe me." He drained the glass, setting it back down. "I need another. You?"

Daniel sighed, reaching tentatively to cover John's hand on the table with his. "John... please stop this."

Green eyes flashing angrily, challengingly "Why should I?"

Daniel returned his gaze evenly. "Because I cannot -- carry you home."

For a moment, Daniel saw pain, and then John turned away, looking down with a little shudder. "You... dammit Daniel, you're so confusing. Or I am. I don't know."

He patted John's hand gently, not knowing what else to do, realizing that whether or not he wanted it, he needed to address the issue of his departure. "Would you like -- to talk about it?"

John was silent for a long moment. "Sure, why the hell not. Not here, though. There someplace private around here?"

"My apartment is only a block -- away...." Daniel finished his drink, feeling the alcohol warm him pleasantly, though it didn't make him feel any stronger, any more sure of himself.

"Good." John stood, throwing down bills - probably much more than he needed to leave to pay for the drinks, Daniel reflected - and started for the door a little unsteadily, seemingly trusting him to follow. When they stepped out of the bar, John looked up at the sky with a little frown. "Damn... forgot about this... just a second." He leaned back against the side of the building, and Daniel caught that strange glint, that twist of reality in his eyes. Glancing up toward the sky, he saw the clouds part over them, the rain stopping.

"The rain was your doing -- too?" he asked, astonished, tugging John away from the building, starting for his apartment.

John gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Yeah. Misery loves company and all that." He followed behind Daniel slowly, keeping up easily with the doctor's limping gait. "Daniel... why did you leave me?"

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt at the obvious hurt in John's voice. It was a question he'd thought about almost constantly over the past couple of days, and he was no closer to an answer that he could actually tell to John. He cleared his throat softly. "I am sorry, John. I simply did not want to -- overstay my welcome. Here we are." He opened the door to the apartment building for John, following him inside and hitting the button for the elevator.

"You wouldn't have," John replied, a little sullenly. "Wish you'd believe me for once."

"Please, John. It's not that I don't -- believe you...."

"Then what is it?" He could hear the frustration join the hurt in John's voice. "We were fine until we ran into Anna. Then you got all cold and closed yourself off and left me. What was I supposed to think?"

Daniel got into the elevator as the door opened, hitting the button for his floor, trying very hard not to read things into his words that weren't there. "That you should not let -- someone like me -- distract you from what is -- important."

"Goddammit!" John's hands caught his shoulders, turning him and pushing him up against the side of the elevator, firm but not rough, surprisingly strong despite the drink. "I keep telling you. She's not important. YOU are."

He closed his eyes and turned his face away from John, a shudder running through him at his touch, his words, at the warmth of him, at the scent of bourbon mixed with John's cologne, all of it going to his head in a dizzy mass of uncertainty. It left him trembling with the effort of holding back, wanting so badly to press close to him, and he forced his hands to stay splayed against the wall of the elevator. "Please don't -- say that, John."

"Why not?" Anger dissolved to helplessness. "I need you, Daniel. God help me, I'll never have you way I want, but can't we at least be friends?"

He chanced to look up at him, searching his face for a long moment, trying to understand his words. "The way you... want?"

John gave a soft, helpless laugh, green eyes sad under his gaze. Full of loneliness, but something much more than that. Longing. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

The elevator stopped, and Daniel glanced toward the open doors, heart pounding at the implications of the other man's words, trying very hard not to feel any kind of hope or joy, trying not to jump to conclusions. He tried to speak and found voice weaker than he expected. "My... apartment...."

"Fuck your apartment," John said, a little roughly, and leaned in to cover Daniel's mouth with his own.

For a moment, Daniel panicked and tried to break away, bringing his hands up to John's chest to push him away like he knew he should. But he couldn't do it, couldn't ignore the thrill of pleasure and elation that raced down his spine, so instead his arms slipped up around John's neck, pulling him closer, drinking in his kisses desperately like he would drown without them. His lips parted easily to deepen the kisses, tasting bourbon and cigarettes on John's lips, chest heaving as he gasped helplessly for breath against his mouth in the brief instants when John pulled back before invading again, claiming his lips fiercely, hot and needy. John's arms slipped to wrap tightly around his waist, pulling their eager bodies together, pressing him back against the side of the elevator. His weight felt agonizingly wonderful against him, and for a moment, Daniel couldn't think about anything but the moment and John's kisses.

When he finally broke away, they were both breathless; Daniel more so, gasping to try and pull enough air into his ruined lungs. He kept his arms tight around John's neck, fighting against an all to familiar blackness that teased the edges of his vision whenever he failed to get enough oxygen. "Oh...."

John's voice was soft, concerned, breath warm against his hair. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," He managed to gasp, still clinging to him, pressing tight to the solidity of the wall behind him. "I just -- sometimes it's hard to -- get enough air...."

He heard John mutter a soft curse under his breath, and reach over to punch Daniel's floor again on the elevator, which had, unnoticed, returned to the bottom floor while they were distracted. "Don't try and talk... I'll get you inside."

Daniel gave a little nod, feeling very dazed for more reasons than just that. When the elevator stopped, John pulled away just enough to walk with him, arm still tight around his waist, solid and supportive, and Daniel wondered if the man was truly as intoxicated as he had seemed in the bar. He managed to direct John to the door to his apartment, though the other man dispensed with the need for keys and simply Tuned it unlocked, letting them in, helping Daniel with his coat and hat and to sit down on the sofa. Daniel half curled into himself, breathing calmer now, but no less nervous. Watching him. "John...."

The dark haired man settled carefully on the couch beside him, watching him, expression a mixture of emotions that Daniel couldn't place. "Yes?"

He swallowed hard, shivering. "You're - you're intoxicated. You'll regret this tomorrow...."

John paused, then shook his head slowly. "No, and I won't... not unless you do. You don't, do you? Just now... that wasn't one sided." His voice took on a slightly wondering tone, and Daniel lowered his face, feeling the tips of his ears burn.

"No... it wasn't," he half whispered, afraid to look at him, afraid that John would pull back at any moment and realize how crazy, how wrong this was.

John was silent for a long moment, long enough that Daniel's fear began to increase, that he looked up at him worriedly.

"That's why..." John said softly, finally, "Why you always... shiver when I touch you. I used to wonder if you were afraid, because of Them...." He shook his head slowly, still wondering. "God, I've been so blind. I should have known...."

"I didn't want you -- to know," Daniel replied softly, the warmth in his ears burning down to his cheeks. "I was -- I am -- afraid of losing you, John...."

"And that's why you left?"

He looked away again, giving the barest nod. "I couldn't -- stop myself from being jealous... I knew you'd realize it, knew I couldn't keep hiding it." He felt John's hands on his arms, gently moving them from where he clutched his own chest, uncurling his body, pulling him close. He gave a soft, choked sob at how overwhelmingly good the simple contact was, trembling madly, clinging to him, burying his face in the warm solidity of John's shoulder. He felt John's hand stroke over his hair, down his back, making soothing noises.

"How long?" he asked softly, and Daniel made a soft noise, half way between a laugh and another sob.

"Since I -- met you," he breathed, feeling a shudder run through him at the admission. "Since I first -- saw you. I'm so sorry, John...."

"Don't apologize for that." His voice was low, a little husky with emotion, and it made Daniel's heart ache wonderfully. "Apologize for keeping it from me, if you like, for letting me believe I meant nothing to you when you left, but god help me, don't apologize for caring about me. It's all I've wanted, all I've been able to think about for so long. So very long, Daniel."

"You shouldn't," Daniel tried again, desperately, and John pulled back to look at him, surprisingly tender, fingers ghosting gently over the scars on the right side of his face.

"Why shouldn't I...?"

He couldn't help but hold the gaze of those green eyes, couldn't break from their intensity. "You deserve so much -- so much more than a cripple, and a - " He gave a soft, bitter laugh. "A man, John. You deserve someone who can take care of you, have children, someone beautiful - "

John's eyes narrowed. "You are beautiful," he muttered fiercely. "I don't care about the rest of that. I want you. You're the only one who knows me - really knows me, Daniel, and everything I've done, good and bad, and you still accept me as I am, you still - care for me."

"Always," he whispered, more than a little stunned by his words and intensity, and gave a soft moan as John tilted his face up gently to kiss him again, warm and tender this time, mapping his lips with soft, gentle kisses. He couldn't stop trembling, couldn't keep from being overwhelmed by John's gentle affection, his hand warm on his cheek, slipping into his hair, his tongue flicking lightly against his bottom lip. Couldn't keep his lips from parting at the invitation, yielding entirely to him, arching more to him regardless of his aching back. John's tongue invading, claiming his mouth, hot and sweet and eager. Couldn't stop his body from reacting, couldn't stop the soft pulses of desire that shuddered down his spine. Couldn't keep from wanting him.

John broke away as soon as Daniel's breathing grew laboured, watching him with tender concern, placing a hand on his chest and rubbing gently. "God, I'm going to kill you...."

Daniel felt a rush of heat to his cheeks and looked down in shame. "I'm sorry, John, I -- I am not a strong man...."

"Shhh..." lips soft and gentle on his forehead, fingers not stopping their gentle massage. "Let me see if I can do something to fix that...."

Daniel felt a shock of alarm. "Drunk?"

He gave a soft chuckle. "Haven't been drunk since we left the elevator, doc. I can get rid of it just the same as hangovers. I didn't need it anymore, not after the way you kissed me."

He felt warmth, and a slow lifting of the pressure on his chest, a lessening of the ache he'd felt so long and constantly that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like not to have it. His breath grew deeper without him even having to try, and he felt his chest expand, lungs stretch deliciously as he drew a deep breath with no pain. "Ohh...."

A smile. "Is that better?"

He nodded, lips pressed tight together, trying to keep himself from being completely overcome by it all. His voice cracked when he tried to speak. "John - !"

He let John pull him into his arms, pressing his lips to Daniel's hair, voice very soft. "I love you."

That was the last straw, and he broke, the care and kindness overwhelming, too much for him to take in after years of being alone in the darkness. He sobbed helplessly into John's shoulder, drawing huge, gasping breaths, letting out all the stress and heartache of the past few days. "I'm sorry - " he gasped, shuddering. "I shouldn't have left, I - "

"Shhh..." John's fingers stroking over his hair and back, warm and gentle, and eventually he calmed, lulled by his touch, by his voice as he murmured soft words, gentle sentiments to calm him. "Everything's okay now... I have you...."

He drew back, finally, slowly getting control of himself, smiling shyly as John's fingers brushed the tears from his cheeks. He slipped his arms up around his neck, reaching up to kiss him, warm and full and yearning.

"I love you, John," he whispered softly, and knew that despite everything, all that he needed in the world was right here.

~~~~~


	5. Chapter 5

When Daniel left Shell Beach, John was at a loss of what to do. At first he could only just stand in the hallway, frozen where Daniel had pushed past him. What had gone wrong? And why did the other man keep bringing up Anna?

Daniel thought he was in the way, John realized suddenly, feeling a sickening lurch in his stomach. He turned, flew downstairs to catch him, but all he saw was the tail end of a cab, disappearing at the end of the street. Daniel was gone.

He returned to his house, gathering clouds overhead, and made it rain. Perhaps a little childish, he reflected, but he couldn't stand to look at the sun when he felt like this. Anna called him several times over the next couple of days, left messages on his answerphone, but he didn't return them. Whatever she'd once meant to him was gone, was meaningless, especially if it cost him the friendship of the one person in the city besides him who understood everything, knew the truth....

Finally, he went into the city. He had to find Daniel, had to talk to him. He wandered aimlessly throughout the day, sometimes waiting outside the doctor's office in case he showed up, but it was dark and looked like no one had been there for some time. Then as night fell, he sought out the little bar where he had, by chance, found Daniel drinking that night. He proceeded to drink until he couldn't think, couldn't feel anything anymore. Maybe if he was lucky, the doctor would visit here. If not... it was better than staying at home alone, and afforded him a craved sense of oblivion, if only for a little while.

The night that Daniel finally arrived, he almost couldn't believe that he was actually there. The blond seemed just as lonely, just as upset as he was, though he seemed more concerned for John's well being than his own, as the kind Doctor always had been. The more that John tried to work from him what was going on, however, the more Daniel resisted him. Finally John just gave in, in a moment of drunken madness, gave into everything he'd been feeling, the aching need and desire, pressing Daniel up against the wall of the elevator and kissing him until there could be no doubt in either of their minds how they felt about each other.

He'd purged the alcohol from his system after that, a simple enough thing to do, with his abilities. He didn't need it anymore.

What he did need was in his arms, trembling and vulnerable, slowly opening up to him, letting John finally heal the damaged lungs that caused him so much trouble and pain. And Daniel broke down, clinging to him like he hadn't seen an inch of tenderness in his life. It likely wasn't too far from accurate, John reflected sadly, stroking his hair gently, if what the doctor had told him about his time with the Strangers was any indication.

There was so much he wanted to say to him - that he'd never leave his side, that he'd never let anyone hurt him, ever again. But he sensed how overwhelmed the other man was, how fragile, and simply held him, murmuring soft words of comfort, brushing away his tears. Returning his sweet kisses, and finally, finally hearing him murmur the words he'd been dreaming of hearing for so long.

"I love you, John."

He tightened his arms around him, feeling a shudder of emotion go through his body. "My sweet Daniel..."

"Shhh," the doctor breathed, and claimed his mouth again, a little more sure of himself, fingers moving to stroke through John's dark curls, so tender and yet somehow so promising that it sent a rush of desire down his spine. "We've wasted far too much time on talking, don't you think?" Daniel murmured softly against his mouth, and John felt another rush, and had to hold himself back from tearing the kisses from those beautiful, full lips, from showing Daniel exactly how much and how long he'd wanted him.

He forced himself to pull back, panting softly, searching the clear blue eyes behind his glasses. "...can I stay here tonight?"

His well shaped lips parted slightly, then turned upwards, into a small, almost cheeky smile. "I don't have a spare room, John."

John had figured as much already. The apartment was small, the kind of small kept by someone who didn't ever expect the luxury of visitors, and as unlike John's own home in Shell Beach as possible, apart from the cozy comfort of it. A refuge against the rest of the world. He grinned. "I know."

Daniel gave a soft, shy laugh, pale skin flushing, and John wondered if he knew how irresistible he looked like that. "Yes, John, you may stay." He swallowed, then wet his lips, just a tantalizing glimpse of pink to tease him. "Please stay."

He caught those lips again with his own, needing to taste him, craving the closeness it brought. His lips were warm, bold and yearning, and so unlike the flippant softness of Anna's kisses that he was faintly relieved. Truth told, she rather annoyed him at times, and her efforts to take him to bed had been shallow at best, all games and manipulation. A stark contrast to Daniel's shy honesty, to the way he gave of himself entirely, vulnerable, trusting and without guile.

He'd thought about this often, in private, indulgent moments, but thinking and doing were two very different things. It was hard not to give full reign to his desires as he returned Daniel's kisses, tasting him, hands roaming restlessly over his back and sides, moving to unbutton his jacket. He was struck by how fragile Daniel seemed, and tightened his hold on his passion. This was something to savour, to take care with. No need to rush, no need to chance hurting him.

He pulled from the sweetness of that mouth with great effort, nuzzling his jaw, kissing and tasting the soft skin just below his ear, tracing just behind it with the tip of his tongue. Daniel tilted his head back, voice coming in a soft whimper as John's teeth grazed his earlobe. "John...."

"Don't want to rush anything you're not ready for," he murmured, trying to catch his breath. "So tell me if there's anything you want me to do or stop..."

He drew a sharp breath as Daniel moved to catch his mouth demandingly, his reply husky, something dark and a little wild in the depths of those blue eyes conflicting with John's resolution to be gentle with him. "Don't hold back," he breathed, and then his fingers were at the front of John's shirt, neatly tugging the line of buttons undone and slipping his hands inside, stroking hungrily over his bare skin. John complied with a soft moan, shrugging out of the thin cotton fabric as well as his overcoat in one go before his hands returned to Daniel's jacket, tugging it off with his vest. When he moved to unbutton his shirt, however, Daniel's hands caught his tightly.

There was unmistakable fear in his blue eyes, but his voice was calm, firm. "This stays on."

"Daniel..." He wanted to protest, to smooth away whatever it was that he was afraid of, but his lover shivered against him, voice breaking with a touch of desperation.

"Please, John...."

He nodded, releasing the cotton and lifting a hand to stroke through his hair soothingly, calming his mouth with soft kisses. "Shhh... anything you want, love...." He consoled himself by letting his hands dance over the fine cotton, teasing his sides through it, kissing his neck hungrily, tracing the tendons with his lips and tongue. It seemed to calm his lover more, rouse his passion again, make him whimper softly and arch against him as John pressed him back into the corner of the sofa.

He tried to map Daniel's torso with his fingers, through the thin, fine fabric. It took a moment for him to realize that the slight roughness that interrupted his fingertips was not the fault of the fabric, but the skin underneath. As soon as he did, he fought to hide any reaction to the realization, fingers continuing their slow caress, but felt a surge of anger boil in his stomach, of protectiveness, at the idea of this gentle man being hurt, scarred. One day, when Daniel was ready to let him, he would trace and worship each one with his lips, and if his lover wanted it, heal them, remove every sign of the Strangers and that dark time from his body. But now was the time to show him, with much more than words, that he didn't care about anything other than having Daniel in his arms. Finding completion in him.

He nosed aside the collar of his shirt enough to suck at the crook of his neck, to tease it with his teeth, feeling Daniel's muscles quiver, hearing him gasp as he arched tense against him, fingers clenching at John's bare back. He sucked harder, nipping gently, and was rewarded by a stronger reaction, a soft, breathless cry that made John's cock twitch with arousal, already straining against his trousers, a hard knot of need in the base of his stomach. His fingers, splayed flat and possessive on Daniel's chest, found one nipple and teased it through the cotton, pinching the tiny nub of sensitive tissue, feeling it harden under the attention, and Daniel's back arched, pressing into his touch. He nuzzled his chest through the shirt - that damn shirt! and replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking wetly at it through the fabric. His fingers slipped down to meet the hips that arched helplessly with the increase in sensation, smoothing over his erection, cupping it and palming it gently, elated at his lover's response and arousal.

"John - " Daniel tugged him up suddenly, leaning into him, kissing him demandingly and pressing him back until their positions were reversed. John almost stretched out on the sofa and Daniel knelt over him, straddling his hips, rocking against him with a little whimper of pleasure as he drank in his kisses.

John pulled the smaller man closer, hands stroking hungrily down to cup his ass, arching back against him, groaning at the surge of sensation. "Oh god, finally...."

The blond gave a soft, breathless laugh against his mouth, hips circling slowly, the friction of his erection against John's own through the fabric of their slacks maddeningly arousing, sending hot shocks of pleasure through him. "Yes..." his lover breathed, pulling from the kiss to lavish attention on John's neck and chest, gently at first, then a little rougher as John urged him on, gasping, hips grinding up against his, craving more sensation, more stimulation. "John...."

He let his fingers tangle in the honey strands of his hair, breathless, voice huskier than expected when he spoke. "How do you want this?"

Daniel raised his head to look at him, lips bruised from the force of their kisses, breath coming in soft pants. "Make love to me." Then Daniel's hands were on his belt, fingers tugging almost impatiently at buttons and zippers and wrenching them open, tugging down thin cotton. Nimble fingers wrapped around his erection, teasing, stroking, thumb rubbing a bead of precum into his skin, massaging the bundle of nerves just below his head, making him groan, hips bucking up into his touch involuntarily.

"God, Daniel...!"

The blond smiled, seemingly entirely focused on the task, and shifted back a little, leaning down to flick his tongue teasingly against the tip of his cock before taking the head in his mouth with a soft, appreciative moan, eyes falling closed behind his glasses. His fingers slipped down to curl around the base of his shaft, stroking slowly, mouth hot and wet and slick and eager, and that was almost too much for John, too much sensation piling on top of desire and need, the tease of his fingers and lips and tongue almost too good as he moved his mouth on him.

John drew a deep, shuddering breath, fighting for coherency against the hard shocks of sensation. "Love... Daniel... if we don't move now... going to fuck you right here on the couch...."

He heard a soft, breathless chuckle, and Daniel raised his head, moving back to kiss him, lips warm and a little salty from his skin, eyes dark with promise. "Come with me."

He didn't have enough time to gain more than a cursory impression of Daniel's room before the smaller man caught his mouth, hands making short work of the rest of his clothes, curling around his cock and stroking slowly, making him groan and rock into his touch. he was vaguely aware of Daniel asking him if he could tune what they needed, and he tried to pull his mind back to coherency, away from the pleasure of his body. "What...?"

Daniel pressed closer, nuzzling his ear, voice soft, shy even now. "I can't handle you unprepared," he murmured, voice husky. "You're too big, I need you to help me..."

He got the picture and nodded, turning to silence him with a kiss, fingers making short work of his slacks and boxers. He pulled him down onto the bed, kneeling over him and letting his body press to Daniel's, rock against his hips. His lover bucked up against him with a sharp gasp, shivering a little, his length brushing against John's, rubbing firm and slow against his stomach, against the smooth fabric of his shirt. John let his hips rock a little harder against him, faster, claiming his mouth almost violently, sucking and nipping at that full bottom lip, breath coming in little cries of pleasure that echoed Daniel's. It was too intoxicating, sensation building hard and fast and unstoppable like a freight train, and the last sane corner of his mind registered that he was too far gone for care about that, to care about prior plans, to care about anything but release. Daniel arched under him, almost squirming as he sought more sensation, trembling thighs wrapping up tight around his hips, and John had to fight hard to keep from climaxing then and there.

"Too much - " He tried to gasp, making one last effort to pull away, only to find both of his lover's hands catch tightly in his hair, pulling him back to his mouth, hot and demanding, almost stealing his breath.

"Don't stop!" Daniel was whimpering helplessly against his mouth, body shuddering under him, gasping for breath. And John couldn't imagine wanting to halt this, or even being able to, need and desire and pleasure and sensation all rushing together, churning hard and fast and intense, cock sliding hot and slick against Daniel's, against his sweat streaked stomach, his shirt long pushed out of the way by the desperate grinding of their hips.

"Daniel - !" he gasped, and the doctor's hands bit into his back suddenly, clenching with a exquisite lick of pain at his skin as his body bucked up tense against him, and he came with a helpless, trembling cry, hot and thick and slick on John's stomach. His lover's climax shattered the remains of John's self control, and everything broke free, sensation rushing hot through his veins, shuddering helplessly as the world around him ceased to exist, everything but the pleasure of Daniel trembling underneath him, the bliss of their intimacy.

It took him a few minutes to come back to himself, trying to catch his breath, face pressed to Daniel's hair. It took that long for his mind to catch up with everything that had happened, and he let out a soft, incredulous laugh. Daniel was smiling when he pulled back to look at him, and chuckled softly with him, seeming very happy and at ease, stroking his fingers lazily through John's hair.

"I - I'm sorry," John found himself saying. "That was... not what I intended...."

Daniel's smile widened, and he reached up to kiss him, soft and languid. "Hush. The body knows what it needs, even if the mind tries to think otherwise."

John's eyebrows knit slightly. "To get off like a couple of desperate teenagers?"

Blue eyes watched him, still amused behind a rather smudged pair of glasses. "It has been quite some time for us both, has it not...? There are much worse things we could feel like at the moment."

John smiled, letting his fingertips slowly trace Daniel's features, warm feelings of awe and adoration strengthening in the blissful aftermath of sex. "That is true, but I was supposed to take my time with you...."

Daniel lowered his eyes, still smiling, a little shyly. "We have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere, John."

"That's true," he murmured, tugging Daniel's glasses off and setting them aside before starting to slowly map his face with soft kisses. "And neither am I."

~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

There was something achingly familiar about waking up in John Murdoch's arms, warm bodies tangled around each other, cocooned in twisted sheets. Sometime before passing out, John had cleaned up the remains of their passion to make sleeping more comfortable, but he could still feel John on his skin, feel the tongue that teased him, the hands that tortured him, the lips that sent the most delicious shudder of desire down his spine.

He was still in his shirt, something that shamed him to think about, but he couldn't bring himself to remove it, to look at himself, to see John's face when he saw. He could hardly look at himself before dressing, overwhelmed by pain and disgust just from a glimpse of it while showering - burns snaking over his skin in the center of his chest, forming a spiral like the ones traced on the dead hooker's breast. Their shape, their brand.

They'd said it was to keep him from falling asleep, he remembered that much, though he didn't quite remember getting it, just waking up one day with it there. They'd said it was to protect him, but he knew better. It said, in not so many words, 'We own you. We control you, and everything you do will be for us, every moment you live will be for us. And you will hate yourself, and others will be repulsed by you, because the only thing that exists in your life is your servitude.'

He'd often felt bitter, watching the subjects in the streets each night between Tunings, blessedly oblivious to what was going on around them. Able to live, to make their own choices even if the memories that made up their personalities were fabricated. Able to love.

That's what he'd missed most of all, an absence that made his heart ache with loneliness. It had been many, so many nights alone in the darkness. Working for them, sleeping alone. Hardly speaking, and never touching another person. And feeling shame - so much shame at the hideous scars on his poor mutilated chest, shame that no woman would ever want to touch him. Shame that he didn't, and had never wanted a woman to touch him, always a man.

John was still asleep behind him, arm shoved a little awkwardly into the space between Daniel's neck and the pillow, free arm flung around him, hand resting low on Daniel's bare hip. His shirt had ended up pushed up around his ribs, and Daniel knew with another soft rush of shame that John would for certain be able to see them, the thin, straight knife scars that laced his torso from years of conditioning, punishments. Torture. But it still hid the burn, the one that made Daniel hate himself every time he saw his bare skin, and that was all that was important, for now.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to quiet his mind, to search for the sleep that had lost him. It wasn't easy - despite the shame of his memories, it was morning, and he had a naked man curled up against his back, one who was long desired and very much cherished. Daniel's body well remembered the night before, and raised a simple and obvious request for more. It didn't help that John seemed to be slowly waking, stirring against his back, fingers stroking small, sleepy circles low on his hip. He felt his lover - what an amazing word - stretch against him, pressing a sleepy kiss to the nape of his neck, and then very deliberately press his hips against Daniel's ass as his fingers slipped down to tease the base of his Daniel's partial erection, letting him know very clearly that he wasn't the only one who wanted more.

Daniel rocked back against him almost without thinking, breath coming in a soft sigh of pleasure. "Good morning, John."

"The best morning," he heard the rich voice behind him murmur in agreement, and he felt John's kisses start to trail up his neck, sucking gently at the soft spot just behind his ear, somehow knowing exactly how he liked it. He gave a moan, arching back against him, his desire suddenly more than just a suggestion, and reached back to catch his hip, pull him closer. His lover gave a soft groan, nipping lightly at his earlobe. "My sweet Daniel...."

He shivered against him, whimpering as John's fingers curled around him, stroking him slowly. "Always yours," he murmured softly, rocking very slightly back against John's hips. He heard his lover give a soft hiss against his hair.

"Positively indecent to molest you before breakfast," he murmured, and Daniel laughed softly, turning to embrace him, to catch his lips with his. He'd expected to be nervous when they were like this, intimate and vulnerable with John, but somehow it all melted away under the pleasure of John's kisses, John's hands on his body. Like it was the most natural, familiar thing in the world to arch closer to him, tangle his bare legs with John's. To run his hands over his chest and shoulders, to yield to yearning kisses. Even the taste of him was somehow right, his scent, the feel of his dark curls under Daniel's fingers.

"I think we should finish what we started last night," He said softly, a little shyly, hooking a thigh around John's hips to squirm closer to him. His lover gave a soft, appreciative moan, arms tightening around him, shifting to press a thigh between his, letting him rock against it slowly.

"Somehow this feels so... natural," John murmured softly, almost wondering, dropping a trail of warm kisses down his neck, one hand slipping to stroke over his chest. Daniel tensed for just a moment, but he didn't try to undo the small buttons, just continued his soft kisses down over the fabric, stroking his waist and hips. Eventually he reached the point where the shirt had been pushed up high enough to show his skin, and pressed his mouth to his stomach with a soft moan, sucking lightly at his soft skin, regardless of the scars. His fingers wrapped around Daniel's erection, stroking slowly, firmly, and Daniel found he could hardly breathe as his lover's mouth slowly moved lower, until he was nuzzling the length of his erection, licking up the underside before taking his head in his mouth with no hesitation.

He whimpered despite himself at the delicious surge of sensation, hot and wet, teasing and pleasuring him, fingers tangling helplessly in John's hair, and part of his mind wondered how on earth John figured out how to do -that- with his tongue. While he hadn't been left with the memory of what this was supposed to feel like, he could see how easily John took to this when it so easily could have - should have - been fumbling and awkward. But then John's fingers were stroking back between his thighs, slick with the lube he'd asked for the night before, stroking his opening slowly, and he found he couldn't think about anything beyond what he was feeling and what John was doing to him and how absolutely, overwhelmingly good it was.

One finger, then two, pumping slowly into him, stretching him, and wasn't this supposed to be painful? There was discomfort, yes, crawling up his spine in little shudders, but then John's fingertips crooked, seeking, teasing, and hitting something that made his toes curl, made his body arch and buck up into his lover's mouth despite himself, fingers clenching in his hair. "Oh god!"

John eased back with a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to the head of his cock, and Daniel suddenly realized how forceful he'd been, and forced his fingers to release the man's hair. "I'm sorry, John - "

"Shh..." His lover's tongue flicked against his head, and his fingers resumed their work, a third easing into play with the first two. "Just relax," he breathed softly, but it was so difficult when even this was a tease compared to what he wanted. He rocked back against his fingers a little, trying not to squirm, trying not to wonder how the hell John knew to do it like -this-, gasping for breath.

"Oh god, John... please..."

He didn't have to ask twice. His lover pulled back, catching his mouth and kissing him hungrily as he pressed Daniel onto his back amidst the sheets, tearing breathless kisses from his lips. He caught Daniel's thighs as the man wrapped them around him, pulling them up higher, gasping against his mouth as he slowly rocked into him. It was so overwhelming - so much sensation, so much feeling of right and completeness that he could hardly contain it, arching up against him as much as he could as his lover started a slow rhythm, shudders of pleasure slowly climbing up his spine with each thrust. He sought John's mouth with his own, kisses desperate and trembling, fingers tangled in his hair, and found his lover almost as overwhelmed as he, returning yearning kisses, gasping his name against his mouth. There was something that was somehow so familiar about it that he couldn't quite place, the most incredible feeling of connection and completion, and it made everything more vivid, made him shiver under the onslaught of sensation.

He gave a soft noise of dismay as John pulled back, but his lover touched his cheek gently, reassuringly, lifting his hips to rest on the top of his thighs, calves resting against his shoulders. It let them come together more completely, and he could feel the head of his lover's cock against something hot and sensitive deep inside him that sent a flood of sensation through him with every thrust, making him cry out helplessly.

It was somehow completely overwhelming, some depth of emotion he couldn't quite understand no matter how much he reached for it, and he caught one of John's hands in his own, clutching it tightly. He blinked hard at the tears that threatened, holding his lover's gaze, begging him not to stop with each shuddering breath. Finally it grew too much, the aching pulses of pleasure forming a tight knot at the base of his spine, entirely overwhelming, and he let his eyes close and arched back as it pulled him over the edge, entirely lost to the blissful shocks of sensation that raced through his nerves. He was aware of John's fingers tightening almost painfully on his, of his name on John's lips as he bucked into him erratically and followed him into climax, hot and slick inside him.

Tears came freely as he gasped for breath as much as he tried to stop them, arching into John's embrace as the man shifted to hold him, pressing his face to dark curls. "I'm sorry, I just - "

"Shhh...." Gentle kisses dotted his face, John's breath in warm pants against his skin. "You all right?"

"Oh yes. I just... I think I really needed that."

John gave a soft smile and a little nod, easing away from him carefully and curling around him. "Yeah... there's something about being with you.... I can't really explain it. It's just such a relief, after needing you for so long, finally being here."

He nodded, finally feeling a little more in control, and cuddled into him more, nestling his head against his chest and smiling as he felt the press of John's lips to his hair. "Like I have found what was missing."

"Mmhmm." John's fingers stroked up and down his spine gently, nuzzling my hair. "Daniel?"

"Yes, love?"

"Will you come back to Shell Beach with me again?"

He found himself smiling, curling closer to him, and gave a soft, contented sigh. "I would like nothing more." He paused for a moment, then gave a soft laugh. "As long as I don't have to stay in the guest room."

~~~~~


	7. Epilogue

The day he finally coaxed every thread of clothing from Daniel's body, comforting him with kisses and gentle touch, the day that he slowly tuned away the scars, every memory of the strangers - that was when he finally saw the ring. Always around Daniel's neck on a gold chain, always hidden safely under his clothes... and the twin in everything but colour of the ring that had been hidden away at the back of John's bureau. He had assumed that it was his - Murdoch's wedding ring. But now....

He held the rings side by side, turning them over in his hands. "Where did it come from?"

"I don't remember, John. I believe that they... took my memories, more than once. To keep me compliant." His lover gave a soft, bitter laugh, but continued. "It was in my pocket, the night you woke up," he explained slowly, and looked up at him in confusion. "But what does it mean?"

Strange, to have Daniel looking to him to answers, when it was Daniel that had always provided them. He slipped the ring onto Daniel's finger, chain and all, realizing belatedly that he'd placed it on his left hand, where a wedding ring would be. With a frown of thought he slipped his own back into its intended place, ignoring for a moment Daniel's questioning gaze.

"There's things that I remember, sometimes," he started slowly, "things that didn't - haven't - happened. Just flashes of memory, really. Perhaps dreams. Things that come back to me at strange times, like now. I remember putting this ring that I've never seen before on your finger at the Hotel Grand."

Daniel stared at him, then shook his head slowly. "John, I don't understand...."

He reached over to take Daniel's hand in his, looking down at the ring, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. "I've always felt for you," he said, voice low and warm. "So strongly, Daniel. It confused me, back when...." he didn't have to finish that sentence without invoking memories of their meeting, near the end of that eternal night. "I thought it was hatred, or fear. But I couldn't shake the sense that I needed to keep you with me, no matter what happened. Protect you from Them, as much as I..." a soft, self depreciating laugh. "As much as I lashed out at you."

"John, don't...."

He gave a little shake of his head, pressed his lips to Daniel's temple. "When the fight was over, I knew that I loved you. I didn't understand it, but I knew. With every part of me, I loved you. Scared the hell out of me, to have such strong feelings for you. The more I thought about it, in the weeks after we freed the city, the more I stopped believing that it came from the memories you gave me. It wasn't the love a child would have for his teacher, or a man for his friend." He looked up at Daniel now, freeing his hand to touch the man's cheek. "I loved you, completely and totally, so much that I stay by myself in Shell Beach, I couldn't bare the thought of being without you. What if that came from before? What if the beginning of us was long before I kissed you in the elevator? Something they took from you, something I... something they erased from me?" His voice lowered, thumb brushing against Daniel's full lower lip. "What if that love was strong enough to survive all the chemicals, all the fake memories they pumped into us?"

"What if my heart never forgot you, even if my mind did?" Daniel smiled softly, thoughtfully, and kissed the pad of John's thumb. "Perhaps we can find out, together. There are things I can check... perhaps." He gave a warmer smile, more real, and caught his mouth in a lingering kiss. "Until then... I will wear your ring, for everyone to see."

John caught his hand, lifting it to press a soft kiss to the band. "I will, too. A symbol of everything you mean to me and everything we've overcome. Of how lucky I have to have you in my life."

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's... that!   
> I'd originally written a lot longer discover of their rings, their past identity and erased love, Daniel's journal and John's stolen file, but... it got very, very schmoopy and ended in a proposal so I scrapped it before it made anyone sick. :P
> 
> This is the John and Daniel that continue into pretty much all of my crossover works (Mirrors, Kieferverse etc.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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